Into the DANGER ZONE

[faderifting]

WHO: All Rifters + the 7 natives who signed up
WHAT: Searching the ruins of Haven for survivors, an Inquisition crew finds something strange. And demons. It's kind of scary that the demons aren't the strange thing.
WHEN: Third week of Harvestmere, 9:41
WHERE: Haven
NOTES: We've broken rifters and rescuers (or "rescuers") into two groups. This log has an arrival comment for each group--you can start smaller subthreads beneath those rather than try to have an eight- or nine-person log, just incorporate surrounding chaos/fighting--and a third top-level set for the whole group's journey back to Skyhold

You were asleep-- deeply or fitfully, for the last time or just resting your eyes for a moment-- and then you were not. And wherever you were was not, anymore, replaced by nothing but the sensation of falling, tumbling into endless, bottomless nothing. If this were still a dream, you would wake before you hit the ground. You can't die in a dream, they say. In some worlds.

But there's no waking here, just a flare of green-white light and a jarring impact, barely softened by snow that lies a foot deep with an icy crust that cracks beneath the force of your landing. The wind is biting cold, the sun is bright, and you are not alone. Others thud to the ground nearby, as bewildered as you, and others run up who look no less confused for having their feet beneath them.

You are also not as you were: in the palm of your left hand there glows a narrow splinter of light the same sickly green as whatever brought you here. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions. Like that you're being attacked by monsters, some tall, spindly stick-things with too many eyes, some hunched and hooded with no eyes at all.

Welcome to Thedas!

Comments

Galadriel | If anybody has a spear that'd be great.

[laurenande]

The snow bent beneath her and it took long moments for her eyes to focus; she drew herself up in the hazy green light and the world swam. She had never quite known disorientation like this, so sudden and complete, so enduring that it was hard for her to focus, but she drew herself up, nonetheless. Had she fallen? The idea was ridiculous, but the pain that lanced through her left arm was severe.

Without thinking, Galadriel closed her hand and drew on the power of her ring. The familiar sensation was wrong, it burned behind her eyes and the pain in her hand was magnified by her efforts. She swayed with the force of the conflict and, as the discomfort faded, her vision settled.

She was surrounded by others; she knew none of them. Above them, curled in the air, was a tear in the world. The power that poured out of it was listless and unfamiliar, unknown to her and dangerous for that simple fact alone. When it coalesced it was with a sickening crack, then the creatures it spawned were upon them.

Galadriel was not so recovered that she could spare the time to seek escape. Her senses fought her and these creatures were both numerous and terrible. She threw out her hand and, with the force of her will, she cast them back. Unfortunately, the effort failed to destroy them and dazed her in the process. She required a weapon.

[slipshot]

Gavin didn't exactly have a strong belief in the Gods. It was a vague sort of half-knowledge - learned more by absorption than by study. But he saw Galadriel tumble from the breach. Watched her rise up to face the demons - watched the magic spear out from her and push the advancing wave back. He couldn't understand how a) she had survived the rift and b) what kind of magic she was using, and c) why she looked unlike any other elf he had ever seen.

It actually made him stare for long enough for a Wraith to hit him square in the chest and send him sprawling. Reeling in pain, he dashed forward, straight at Galadriel, grabbing for her arm. (If it turned out she was a demon, he could deal with that later.)

"Come on!"

[laurenande]

There were spirits, faint and violent, scattered at the edges of her vision. What they were she could not say, they were not separated from themselves, but they had no form--the hand that caught her wrist was firm and it pulled her sharply. Looking down threatened to upend her vision once more, but she fought the reaction.

It was..an elf who took her hand? Galadriel stared at them curiously, they were entirely unfamiliar, unknown in a way she could not have imagined. She paused for longer than was wise. The curl of heat and anger was sudden and far too near. She twisted and threw out her hand with barely enough time to turn the flame away. Her head hurt badly, but Nenya was undamaged by the falling.

"Lead, quickly," Galadriel answered and looked back to the elf at her side. If there was a way to escape, she would take it.

[slipshot]

Even her voice sounded different - something divine in it, and despite being thrown off, Gavin nodded furiously, darting ahead to lead her out of the main force of the battle. (She was a Mage, at least that much was obvious, and mages really shouldn't be in the thick of things. Nor, really, should he, but Gavin was far from a master technician.)

He sprinted up some rubble, the next arrow drawn am loosed in an instant - slamming hard into a demon that blocked their way.

[laurenande]

Her guide was eager and his steps quick; Galadriel followed at his heels, insofar as she was able while the world rocked dizzily beneath her feet. The whistle of an arrow was familiar enough that it grounded her, somewhat, but to what end? She stared at the shade before them and was still unarmed. The arrow had staggered the creature in their path. It drew itself up but made no move to pull the arrow from its neck, if it recognized it at all, and Galadriel considered her ring.

If she continued to use power, she would shortly be unable to stand, a consequence that helped no one. She did not know how many of these creatures there were, or why they were so difficult for her to dispatch, and to continue to use the ring was a dire risk.

"A blade, if you have one," Galadriel called to the archer on the rocks above her.

[slipshot]

He was already notching another arrow as she spoke, letting it fly as she finished her sentence. It embedded itself into the demon next to the first (as it was nearly impossible to miss, from this range, thankfully enough.)

He stumbled backwards, half sliding down the rubble, half falling down it, until he skidded to a stop just in front of Galadriel, his back to her as he drew another arrow.

"Dagger - Sheath on the quiver," He said, his voice tight and quick as he drew the bow back, the demon launching itself down towards them.

[laurenande]

His instructions were clear and Galadriel did not hesitate to draw the blade from his back. Her skill was not in swords, nor daggers, but she would not be helpless and unarmed. With this, at least, she could be of assistance.

The archer was quick and his shots landed sharply against the creature's hide. For as strange as these things were, little more than bone and thin-stretched hide atop it, they did not frighten her. The shade moved with speed, its arms stretched high, the sharpness of its claws all but glittering in the light.

Galadriel lunged beneath the arc of its arms, the short blade gripped tightly in her unmarked hand. Up close, these creatures were no more pleasant than afar; it stank of violence and death, to be near it was to feel how it weakened the living. She drove the blade into its chest as her anger rose. As unsteady as she was, this was a familiar rage and it gave her focus.

"Lómë heca!"

The command was steely and the creature shrieked as the blade in her hand carried her will. Were she uninjured, it would have burst into flame, scattered as ashes on the wind, but the searing force of her power refused her command. She twisted the dagger as it flailed. There was a snap of bone and hide as she pushed it higher and, as it swiped its claws across her shoulders, she tore the blade free.

It sagged, stunned by the assault and still smoldering from the wound in its chest. She had no doubt the archer would end it before it recovered.

[slipshot]

She took the blade, and Gavin thought she might as well have been made of lightning - streaking forward as her golden hair took up the light, arcing behind her as she struck. The language was like nothing he ever heard, but he could feel the power behind it, the hair raising on the back of his neck.

The creature staggered, and Gavin thought for sure it must be dead - only finally shaking off his reverie when he realised that - in fact - it wasn't, and he forced himself to draw another arrow, draw, and fire - somehow managing to have it hit the creature square in the smouldering wound that Galadriel had left.

With a stomach curdling scream the creature broke apart into green wisps of fade, destroyed.

His heart restarted, thumping painfully and he had no idea if it was from fear, or awe, or both. "Who are you?" He finally managed to ask aloud.

Mouse over for Elvish translations.

[laurenande]

Galadriel turned, twisted at the waist and looked back at him. It was a challenge to catch her breath, and her weakness was shored up by little more than the rigid force of righteous fury, but she remained remarkably unaffected by combat. Indeed, despite the damage to her white gown, the fabric refused to wick any of the blood that gradually rose across her shoulders. For all it's flailing, the demon hadn't managed to clip a single strand of her hair.

She was perplexed as his question registered and it showed across her face. While he didn't look like any elf she'd ever met, surely he knew? She had dwelt in the mortal realm since the first rising of dawn. He was Morquendi, certainly, but--was she so far from home?

"Im Galadriel, Rhîn o Lórien. Sindarin na' hennio?"

It wasn't quite as musical as what she'd shouted, and these words lacked the force of her power, but the language was still flowing and easy. If he did not understand then she was very far from home, farther than she could truly comprehend.

Re: Mouse over for Elvish translations.

[slipshot]

The language was beautiful - her voice like a deep river current - but the words was completely unintelligible to him. He shook his head sadly, trying to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry," He replied, with a weight that made it all too clear that he meant it. "But I don't understand." It didn't sound anything like Dalish, or any other language he heard, and even though these words lacked the raw power behind the ones he'd heard before, it was still obviously the same language.

Carefully, cautiously, he stepped forward - his skin feeling like it might shiver and fall off, either from fear, or awe, or both. Slowly he put his hand out, low, the palm up, the thumb out. An offering.

"We shouldn't stay here. Come with me?"

He had no idea what she was, but getting her away from the rift... Whatever, or whoever, she might be, it seemed a prudent idea.

[laurenande]

"You need not apologize," Galadriel answered. She would have shaken her head, had her disorientation been less. As it was, simply looking down at his hand was a challenge. His lack of understanding was...deeply troubling to her, but it was no fault of his. She placed her hand in his, though the dagger remained in her other, and the fabric of her sleeve pooled around his wrist. The fabric was soft, warm, gossamer, and utterly uncanny.

"I am Galadriel, Lady of Lórien," she repeated and cast a look around them. The battle was progressing swiftly, there were many competent warriors here, but retreat was still her best option. "Please, lead the way. I am unsteady but I shall follow."

Would one made of ice work?

[fleurdesel]

Not all the shapes were demons- some looked human. Some were caught in the middle and unarmed and that she could not abide. One even seemed as though she had some manner of magic- though not enough to do more than force them back. Adelaide snapped her staff out, forcing a line of ice to run between the demons and the dazed figure, drawing it up formed that ice into a wall. Time bought- not much but enough for her to run closer, to offer whoever it was a hand out of the frey.

"Are you injured?" She said, half a mind on the woman and the rest on the barrier of ice.

Yes, I think so.

[laurenande]

"I am uncertain."

The answer was less than helpful, but honest. Galadriel had never witnessed a barrier being raised so, though it was not so strange that she could afford to give it attention. It granted her a moment to breathe and calm the racing of her heart, if nothing else, and she regarded the woman who made it.

However she had come to be on the ground, however she had been injured, it had taken her focus. She would require more than a few moments pause behind a wall to regain it; wielding Nenya was far too dangerous if she could not walk without risk of falling.

"Can you make me a weapon?" Galadriel asked and closed her fingers around the mark in her hand. They worked well enough, despite the pain that bit at her. If she remained unbroken, she could use a spear or sword well enough.

One spear, coming up

[fleurdesel]

"Sword or spear?" It wasn't her specialty but- demons all around and another sword arm would be of use, no matter how dazed and drained this woman appeared. Before the answer came she already had one hand held off to the side, frost blooming on her skin while the beginnings of a hilt or haft of a spear grew. To make it solid, to make it strong would take just as long as the barrier would give them. If the maker was kind, it would be long enough for the woman to recover somewhat.

What service, fantastic.

[laurenande]

"Spear," the answer came quickly enough. The weapon was half formed, already, and glittered in the woman's hand. Galadriel had time, if only a little, and drew herself back up.

She had been unprepared before, using her will even as her thoughts lie scattered around her, but she would not be caught unawares again. These creatures were unknown to her, but they were filled with such hate, such violence, that she could not stand by and permit them to escape.

Two shades, creatures of shadow and bone, clawed at the wall of ice and Galadriel watched them in silence. How they existed, she could not say, but there were precious few things that were immune to a sharp edge.

"What is your name?" Galadriel asked as she caught her breath and was finally able to maintain it.

She tries.

[fleurdesel]

"A spear you shall have." But a pulse of thought and a rush of will, the ice crackled out in either direction, providing a serviceable spear. The enchantment would not last much longer than the fight, but it would hold. Before she offered it over Adelaide pulled a bandage from the pack on her belt and wrapped the middle, so there would be something more comfortable to grip other than cold, smooth ice.

Done, it was held to be taken.

"Adelaide." A beat passed, the scrabbling at the wall of ice cracking under the demon's blows. "Aim for the core- they have no true heart but it is similar enough to see them dead."

[laurenande]

Galadriel took the spear from her and hefted it once; it was more than enough and certainly more than she'd had before. In her long life she had seen much peril, but rarely had she required such aid. This woman had saved her life, a considerable feat, and one the elf was not likely to forget.

"Adelaide," she repeated, though the vowels were the wrong shape as she spoke them.

Unfortunately, the time the shield had given them was at an end. The creatures claws broke through the ice and, with speed, Galadriel lunged forward and drove the spear through the break in the wall. It was not a kind kill. It had been too long since she had last held a weapon and her aim was not so sharp that she could spare the creature suffering. She drove the weapon through the shade's arm, caught its throat, and finally into its center, pinning it to itself before it died. When she twisted the spear and pulled back, it seized and collapsed.

The other took its place without pause or hesitation, carving through the damaged wall with viscous blows.

[fleurdesel]

Now that the woman was armed, now that the wall was cracking and they had but a moment before the demons broke through it truly struck her how...other this woman was. Something in the veil sings, high and bright and certain as any spirit and for a moment both she and Compassion are shaken. Awed.

It passed as it must, the rolling sound of her name not quite right but never so solid as when she'd spoken.

Some part of Adele wondered if she hadn't been renamed. The rest twisted and curled with Compassion to settle themselves, to focus on the demons. Smite them down, mend the injured.

They could not help what they were and for that, she attempted to make the kills clean. A shard of ice stabbing up from the remains of the wall through the demon's neck, leaving it pinned until it passed. Others remained- the crackling heat of the rage demon was especially worrying.

[laurenande]

The second shade fell and, despite its hacking blows, the ice wall remained. Now, with her vision settled and a weapon, the wall was more of a hindrance than an aid. Precious as it had been, Galadriel didn't hesitate to sweep a hand out and collapse it. The ice shattered away from them, broke into uneven shards and scattered onto the snow as her power overwhelmed it.

Something in her dimmed as she used her power, it burned away with such speed and waste that she couldn't quite fathom it. She felt as if she were a flame caught in a gale, as though she could pull power and become a pillar of fire, but knew the wind would extinguish her, that whatever power it fanned would not prevent it from blowing her out. It was terrifying and, at once, the manner of her injuries began to truly worry her.

She cast a glance at those around them. The others fought against these creatures with blades and bows, they were skilled and the creatures fell quickly. They would not be overwhelmed without her aid. She lifted spear she'd been given and, as a few of the remaining shades advanced, she gave them no quarter. She was swift but disjointed, and her gown did not lend itself to her task, but she was still deadly enough that she needed no protection beyond her weapon.

At least not for these creatures.

(And Adelaide can be off and help someone else, or they can fight the rage demon, whichever you'd prefer.)

[fleurdesel]

Actual combatant Adelaide was not. In the Spire she'd trained, certainly, but her focus for the last long while had been healing. Enhancing. Raising up her fellows in battle and making them more efficient, faster, stronger, better. The woman she'd saved seemed to have skill enough to mind them both but a weariness to her which Adelaide couldn't begrudge. She'd fallen through the fade, through shades of madness and dreams and magic and may very well be some manner of spirit herself with how Compassion sung in her presence.

But she could fight. Adelaide could ease that burden and make it simpler. The shades and Wraiths were cut down but the Rage demon? Would take more from them both.

Time and room enough was granted by the woman's skill with the spear to offer Adelaide space for another spell. Her eyes flashed, her hands glowed, and it would not be much but it would be something- a glowing aura flared into existence around her spear wielding partner, offering clarity, a strength and speed just above and beyond what she had been managing earlier. Perhaps with that and the woman's skill, the Rage demon would fall.

[laurenande]

The spear she'd been gifted was strong but brittle. The edge was more than enough to cut through bone and flesh, but she was uncertain it would survive an arcing blow. The shades' claws had little effect on it, enchanted as it was, and for that Galadriel was thankful. Her last opponent, however, was not like the others.

It was a creature of flame and anger, without bone or flesh, and it rose up as Galadriel slew the last of the shades. It grew in size and intensity until it stood half her height above her, looming and livid. As she stared it down, searched for some way to cast such a creature out with the weapon she held, a wash of clarity came over her. The way her vision listed, the clumsiness in her limbs, even the haze that mired her focus, all were driven out.

She nearly felt like herself again.

The creature lifted a hand, molten and taloned, and brought it down above her. She had settled for simple movements with the shades, stabbing, thrusting, and narrow strikes, all as quick and easy as she could manage to make them. She'd been so addled she couldn't have attempted more. With this new clarity she was faster and stronger; she could finish this swiftly.

Galadriel moved in closer, ducked under its arm and brought the bottom of her spear up in a wide arc. The weapon struck with enough force that the base broke apart as it rent the creature's arm from its body. Without pause she shifted, leaned back and brought the blade up. It carved a deep furrow through the creature, split it open from its narrow waist, up through the mass of it, and broke apart one of its glowing eyes. The blow failed to cleave it in two, but only just.

If it also held a core, she would expose it, for arrow, ice, or her own spear to strike.

[thedevilson]

If it was a weapon she required, it was a weapon she soon got, if not entirely in the way one might expect. Rebellion might not be a spear, but it's certainly more than half Dante's size, guaranteeing that it was big enough to do its job--that job specifically being to kill demons. Perhaps not the demons he was used to, but one demon couldn't be all that different from another, at least not to him...they were still ugly, irritating fuckers.

So it was with extreme prejudice that Dante lobbed his sword through the air at closest advancing demon to Galadriel, spearing it right through the head...or what qualified as a head anyway. Technically swords aren't designed to work that way, but who cared about the details as long as he got the job done. Afterward he approached this unsteady angel in white, and wrapped a steadying arm around her stunned shoulders.

"You run, I'll cover you," after making sure that Galadriel was stable enough on her feet he released her, extending his hand out to grab the hilt of his sword before the demon collapsed at their feet. Ripping Rebellion right out of it's present casing, which of course caused some debris to fly as the demon finally hit the ground, Dante side-eyed Galadriel once before pressing forward. It wasn't that he didn't think she could be useful, hell he saw what she could do...but that wasn't enough.

He'd rather she retreat to safety.

[laurenande]

Violence was far less jarring to Galadriel than it should have been. The great-sword that struck the shade before her did so with speed and power, it folded bone and rent what little flesh these creatures had. The shade collapsed on the snow, bent under the weight of the sword. She turned her gaze down at it and it upset all of her senses.

She closed her eyes and drew a slow breath, when she opened them it was to find an arm braced about her shoulders and an instruction to flee. She was uncertain what manner of person had slain that shade, and he was gone with enough speed that the question remained.

At the moment, unfortunately, she did not have the luxury of indulging curiosity. She was injured, though she knew not how, and a strong sword arm would be of far more use and far less danger than she. She steeled herself as she looked for a reasonable place to retreat, but her searching did little good. There were few options and each was blocked by spirits.

Thankfully, she had been granted a moment of pause and, while she was weak already, she was not so weak that she would be stayed by something as fleeting as these spirits. She waved at the creature in her path and it burst apart in silver light; the mark in her hand seared and the force of her will wavered as it died. Destroying one took far more effort than she'd have liked, it nearly took her feet out from under her, but now a way was clear.

[thedevilson]

Dante kept one eye on his task, which was to eliminate as many of these little bastards as he could as quickly as he could, the other he kept on Galadriel. While demon killing might have been his most pressing concern at the moment, he wasn't about to abandon her, that just wasn't his way in spite of his usual attitude problem. While he was fairly certain she could handle any demon that found it's way in her path, there were others approaching from behind and in other directions. Dante wasn't very good at playing the guard dog in the battle field, that's why he always opted to fight alone, he was good when it came to risking his own life...when there were other lives...it was harder.

Shifting the sword's shape from that of it's natural form into a pair of large, three edged, shuriken like weapons he propelled one in the direction of the demons approaching Galadriel from the back while tossing the other at the demons that were trying to approach him. The best thing about this form of Rebellion was that it was fast, it increased his range exponentially, and it was just as deadly giving off waves of energy while it attacked. Additionally it enabled Dante to kill two birds with one stone, as the saying went, before retreating to follow the peculiar, ethereal woman, compelled to make sure that she was okay.

"You holding up...because...uh...now's not a good time to pass out," and he could see that she was putting a great deal of effort into staying on her feet, but at least she had cleared a path for herself and Dante could guard the rear until she was completely out of danger.

[laurenande]

"I shall not fall," Galadriel answered him, though any tone she'd intended to inject into her words was lost to her exhaustion. Whatever this place was, however she had come to be here, she was incapable of truly defending herself without assistance.

"Do not be distracted," she added and, had she a bow, would have gladly fired a volley into the creatures that approached at his back. And it was, most certainly, him that was their target.

Despite her weariness, these things had no interest in her. They were not clever opponents, nor organized, if their tactics were so strange. It was fortunate, perhaps, that they sought out the more threatening opponent; if she were to escape, she would not be able to do it quickly.